Well, People, it’s been almost a week since I was in NYC.
What have I been doing since I got back? Recovering.
That is not a great city for a Highly Sensitive Blonde to stay for any length of time (and by “any,” I mean more than a few hours). I was there for five days.
If you’ve been keeping up with my blog, you already know something about this NYC extravaganza. But let me fill you in on the rest of the story.
Philip was officially done on Thursday afternoon. We had an early dinner and went to see The Book of Mormon.
The weather turned tropical on us. Hot, humid and the rainy season was all day, but intermittent. My hair does independent and unfriendly acts of retaliation in humid, wet conditions. I was glad the theater was dark. But the restaurant wasn’t. I was glad Philip loves me unconditionally.
We had box seats for the show. I felt like royalty, and wished I looked like royalty.
Here’s what I knew about the show before seeing it:
1. It won lots of Tony Awards, so a guy named Tony loved it.
2. It was supposed to be very funny.
3. It was probably about religion, specifically Mormonism.
Here’s what I can say about the show after seeing it:
1. Tony was right. This show was worth seeing. Original, surprising, top-shelf acting, singing and dancing.
2. It was hysterifunckle, in a totally irrelevant way. One line had me laughing so hard I was crying…for five minutes. One of the actors playing an inept Mormon “newbie” reminded me of John Candy. He was that good.
3. It was definitely about religion. Mostly Mormonism, but it razzed religion in general. If you are a devout believer and have no sense of humor, this might not be the show for you. This definitely is not the show for you. I had to got to Buddhist Boot Camp after watching it…but it was SO worth it. Forgive me, Buddha, for I laughed at wickedly unwholesome spoofery and heard wholly unwholesome language, but, heck fire, it sure was funny.
After the show, we walked to Times Square and saw the lights and frights sights. Then we stopped by Carmine’s, right next to Sardi’s, for a drink. Philip had scotch and I had soda water. If I ever go back to New York City, I want to eat at Carmine’s. It’s the kind of Italian place where people might get gunned down, but not before having the best (and last) Italian meal of their lives. It’s a trendy joint with an old-fashioned, original Godfather (the movie) overtones. I was looking around for bullet holes in the wooden floors…
On Friday morning, the day we left, my week in the Big Apple caught up with me. I was officially, semi-comatosely fatigued. It was a tough trip home and I’m just now starting to feel my energy come back.
So that’s it, People. I’m planning on staying in my cave condo, enjoying the quiet, and plugging away at my novel. Oh yes, and blogging, too. Can’t forget that!

This could be Lorna’s decreasing energy as she stayed in the bustling city, her progress on her novel this week, or her blog popularity if she doesn’t bounce back soon. Anyway you look at it, People, Lorna’s headed for the crapper. Of course, this could be my grades for good citizenship, but I’d rather talk about Lorna heading for the crapper than my sassy-pants attitude.












